THIS IS IT. MICHAEL JACKSON IN JAMAICA

Michael Jackson visited Jamaica in 1975. Photo by Lee Jaffe.

The fate of the living planet is the most important issue facing mankind. Gaylord Nelson

THIS IS IT . NOVEMBER 5, 2009

New York, NY – “MICHAEL JACKSON’S THIS IS IT” made motion picture history as the highest grossing concert film of all time. And now, the two-disc album companion to the movie Michael Jackson’s This is It released by Sony Music’s Epic Records makes its first week debut in the #1 spot of the Billboard Top 200 album chart, as well as the Soundtrack album chart. http://www.michaeljackson.com/

Blah blah, yadah, yadah

I went on to read more accolades and praises.

"Michael lives on through his songs, his creative genius, his body of work and his passion for his art," said Rob Stringer.

I found no words to adequately describe the genius of Michael Jackson. I kept reading.

"This historic recording of the last time he sang and danced on stage shows the legendary artist in an incredibly powerful way, with crystal clear images and sound”.

This is true but still not adequate enough.

“Michael Jackson, one of the most widely beloved entertainers and profoundly influential artists of all-time, leaves an indelible imprint on popular music and culture.”

Not even close. Still searching for words.

“I can think of many words to describe Michael as he rehearses for and creates THIS IS IT– inspirational, dynamic, generous, dedicated, and loving and the guiding force—you see him as the true architect and driving force of this project – a true master of his craft, the Entertainer of Entertainers”.

Nice words.

I finally give up, unable to find just the right words to describe Mr. Jackson,
I turned to a friend who encouraged me to go see the movie. She had seen it three times. She must by now been able to articulate a few words of her own to attempt to describe her experience.

“A gift from GOD” She said. My friend, a very spiritual being herself proclaimed.

That’s more like it.

“Profound” A messenger of GOD! A what! A modern day Messiah! I tried to get my head wrapped around this.

Could Michael Jackson be a messenger, sent from Mr. GOD himself? Could this singing and dancing crotch grabbing maestro in fact be a Messiah?

Michael does appear Christ-like, a messenger from God sent to earth to tell us all to take care of the Planet, and each other…."we have four years to get it right" he whispers.

Then it struck me. My body went cold.

We killed the messenger. AGAIN!

We failed to speak out against the media crucifixion; we failed to recognize his true greatness, his humanity, his strength. We saw instead his face, distorted by years of plastic surgery, we saw his frail body, and we sat watching all the drama of his life unfold like some stupid MTV reality TV show.

We laughed at his weirdness. We discussed his child molestation cases, like Nancy Grace, and pointed our fingers at him with her.

This was no child molester. This was not a man who was dying of a drug infested lifestyle. There were no signs, even with a good editor, of his intentions of dying, his deteriorating mind or body. In fact, this man is the most ALIVE person I have ever seen. He out danced all the dancers, half his age and he out sang all the singers that have ever graced this planet. His voice and precision was perfection. This was NOT a man who was about to die, he intended to live to perform for us once more and show us his magic. He intended to take us were we had never been before. I say he has most certainly achieved his goal, even more so, as the millions of people who could not have afforded his concert tickets all have been granted the equal opportunity to share his vision and witness his genius.

What stood out the most about Michael was not his impeccable voice, or the theatrics of this movie, but his effort and his commitment to making this World a better place.

Michael Jackson was a very evolved spiritual human being who truly believed in the power of Love. He was the embodiment of Love in its purest form.

Let us remember his last few words, and cherish our gift by taking care of each other and our precious Planet before it is too late…he said “we have four years to get it right, and then it will be irreversible”

The world has lost a remarkable human being, an inspiration, a legend. They call him "The King of Pop". I now call him Gods chosen Child, his latest messenger.

It really is all about LOVE, L.O.V.E. Yes, it is that simple. If we truly love the planet and value our continued existence then we need to halt the destruction of it. We must put an end to the wars, the death, the hate, the religions and politics and racism that divides us, put aside our fears and greed, and change our path to destruction NOW.

NOW is the time. We must each make the effort and uphold the commitment to reverse this destructive path and become pro active. We must all actively take responsibility and begin the healing of our great Planet, Earth. Finding water on the moon does not mean we can live there.

Thank you God for the gift of Michael, for your gift to all mankind. May his work and message live on in the lyrics of his songs, forever. His spirit will be our light. It is our time to shine.

Rest in Peace, Michael, Rest in Peace. We hear you.

I dare you to go on with your self absorbed life after seeing this movie and pretend that you did not get his message too or at the least be profoundly affected by his few soft spoken words. I hope that you will be inspired and feel a sense of urgency like I have to try to help Michael to Heal the World.

"We have four years left to get it right, and then it will be irreversible". I somehow don't think he was referring to a dance sequence.

After all is said. This is our real purpose in life. Maybe this is the reason we were put here on this Planet?

So today I say; Go forth and help to Heal the World and Save our Planet, Earth. Take care of each other. This is all that really matters.

Think about it. Who the hell wants to live on the friggin' moon.

Is this it? THIS IS IT. Get it. Bingo!

How was your week. JAMAICAROCKS will now be posted in weekly episodes.

BLESSINGS, ONE LOVE and WALK GOOD
http://www.michaeljackson.com/

JAMAICAROCKS: LOVE IN PARADISE

JAMAICAROCKS: LOVE IN PARADISE

A SMALL ISLAND

Filming is now completed on the BBC1 television adaptation of the novel of SMALL ISLAND. It stars Naomi Harris as Hortense, David Oyelowo as Gilbert, Ruth Wilson as Queenie, Benedict Cumberbatch as Bernard and Ashley Walters as Michael Roberts. It is scheduled to be broadcast in the UK in two 90-minute episodes in the autumn of 2009.

Small Island is based on a novel by Andrea Levy, Winner of the 2004 Orange Prize for Fiction. A Picador Original Trade Paperback.

Hortense Joseph arrives in London from Jamaica in 1948 with her life in her suitcase, her heart broken, her resolve intact. Her husband, Gilbert Joseph, returns from the war expecting to be received as a hero, but finds his status as a black man in Britain to be second class. His white landlady, Queenie, raised as a farmer's daughter, befriends Gilbert, and later Hortense, with innocence and courage, until the unexpected arrival of her husband, Bernard, who returns from combat with issues of his own to resolve. Told in these four voices, Small Island is a courageous novel of tender emotion and sparkling wit, of crossings taken and passages lost, of shattering compassion and of reckless optimism in the face of insurmountable barriers---in short, an encapsulation of that most American of experiences: the immigrant's life.

This epic movie was shot on location in Jamaica. The historical township of Spanish Town, near Kingston, was transformed to depict a rural town in Jamaica back in the early 40's.

A massive tent city was erected nearby, on Caymanas Estate, an old sugar cane plantation, complete with individual trailers for the main actors. A 100 x 100 ft. tent was constructed just for the wardrobe, where a crew of about ten people, sewed, ironed and hung costumes on several portable and built in racks. We labeled and tagged every garment after intense fitting and styling sessions, to select the outfits for the actors and extras to wear. Hundreds of extras had to be dressed, in vintage 1940's clothing and it was very hard work and long hours that lasted 2-3 weeks.

Detailed pictures were compiled in a book for reference and continuity. Movies are never shot in sequence, they are shot by each location. These books are our Bible, as every detail, down to the buttons, placement of hats and jewelry have to be photographed with notations and photographed again on set in the event a slight change is made to the outfits while shooting. A log is then made of every intricate detail, scene by scene, shot by shot. Continuity is a very important job on these productions, and is usually done by an expert, someone who is extremely focused and has an eagles eye for detail. A hat falling off or missing jewelry spells catastrophe if not noticed immediately, re shooting a scene due to a wardrobe malfunction is a major disaster as it costs millions of dollars to shoot just 1 minute of footage.

All the wardrobe goes through a process called Distressing. Distressing is the special effects of making new clean clothing look older and worn. The outfits start off clean and spotless, and we rub special 'makeup' into them, creating holes using sandpaper, bleach is used for fading, and grim and sweat are applied to armpits, knees and collars. "ring around the collar" and sweat marks are actually not real. However, this special effect is how the wardrobe begins to shape and transform the characters and helps to make the movie look real.

Finally it is showtime, camera and crew are on location and we are ready to shoot the first scenes.

An old crumbling wooden house , is almost completely rebuilt and transformed, into Hortenses home in Jamaica. The props are placed,checked and logged by the prop master. Ragged rugs, chipped furniture and rusty old vintage cars help to make the set look authentic. A small quaint historical church has a wind and rain machine in place outside ready to shoot the Hurricane scenes. The crew of about 200 people are hustling around, transporting actors from their trailer, serving food in the main tent, unloading equipment, loading the camera, adjusting the lighting, re-adjusting the positions, as wardrobe, hair and makeup transforms each actor into the character they play.

We are all controlled and told what's happening, from the end of a scene to what's up next, by a team in production. They prepare detailed call sheets ( lists) daily with every scene to be shot, including all the crew and actors on board for that day. Walkie Talkies connect us to the production team, and provide updates and a running commentary from the directors chair to the maid cleaning the honey wagons (portable bathrooms, toilets and beds)

It takes an amazing amount of time, teamwork, skill and energy to make 1 second of footage.

Roll camera, sound is speeding....and Action!

The actors are in character, they deliver their lines as they walk into shot.

....and Cut.

Several takes are done from different angles, wide, close ups and turn arounds, as the director whispers this thoughts to the actors and cameraman or the director of photography know as the DOP.

Quiet on set, Lock it up, and..... Action!..shouts the first Assistant Director (1 st AD)

Wardrobe fly in. Makeup does touch ups. Wind machine is cued. Rain is cued. Nothing is real.
Rain stops falling, wind stops blowing.

and...That's a wrap!

Everything is loaded back into massive trucks, the actors return to their trailers, wardrobe is placed back in order, and the buses take us home.

THE FINAL CUT.

Stay tunes for more on Small Island and the premier. Go to: Andrea Levy, UK on Facebook for updates and read her biography.

A private screening was held here in Kingston last month. A riveting and compelling movie.

THE END.

LOVE IN PARADISE

A room at Jakes in Treasure Beach, Jamaica.

Greetings!

"Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down." Oprah Winfrey

Some people come into our lives, leave footprints in our hearts and we are never, ever the same.
Once in a while, in the middle of an ordinary day love gives us a fairytale.

This is my fairytale.

Treasure Beach is a small fishing village located on a peninsula on the South Coast of Jamaica, I always wanted to write a story or a script for a movie or documentary as I have had so many lives, and met so many people, so I decided to write a story about the fascinating characters I had encountered. Not really clear on the subject, just knowing I had to get it out of my system, this passion, this burning, the yearning to write was consuming me.

While sitting in a rum bar talking to my village friends, most of them fishermen, who told fascinating tales of their adventures at sea. Their voices began sounding like a loud ringing in my head, I thought for one second I might have had a little too much beverage, and then it hit me like a bolt of lightning.

This was the story and it had to be told.

I took a leap of faith, a deep breath and plunged. I packed up my business in Kingston and moved to Treasure Beach.

Treasure Beach is magic. It is not the most lush landscape, it is not the easiest road to travel, it is quite the opposite. The land is dry and arid, parched brown grass, the worst roads you can imagine with no signage, but the sweetest, kindest people, I have ever met in my life.

It is the only place on the planet I feel complete freedom and peace. I can wonder the streets at night, without fear, sit in the sun with a book alone, or hang with the villagers listening to their tales. It is also healing to the spirit, as you are surrounded by nature in it’s purest form.

Dolphins swim by, hummingbirds feed on flowers in front of your eyes, goats and cows, barking dogs and crowing roasters permeate the wind. In the background, reggae music can be heard from a far off radio or car as it speeds by. This is the soundtrack of Treasure Beach.

I rented a small shack owned by an old Jamaican couple from Kingston. The shack had no electricity, no hot water, no A/C no T/V..no creature comforts. Just a shack on a beach with some goats. I was all alone, but I needed this space in order to write this story. My designer wardrobe had now whittled down to a piece of cloth, tied around my hips and a pair of beaten up flip flops. This is all I needed…well...except for my case of expensive lotions and potions. You can’t expect a city girl to live on nature alone, now can you.

The Aveda, Lancome and Keils were not in short supply.

Thus began the journey of researching the material for this project of mine. I interviewed old men, young men, church ladies, children, madmen and off course the fishermen as this was to be a tale of the fishermen who lived in this remote Jamaican village. One weekend I invited my girlfriends from Kingston to come and meet my villagers and arranged a small gathering at the shack. Suddenly I looked up and walking through my door was an unfamiliar face. This beautiful brown man with deep green eyes came in and just sat on a chair in a corner. He did not say hello or goodnight, he did not smile, he just sat down on a chair in a corner. I have never been lost for words, my friends can vouch for that. I was completely lost for words. I could not speak. I stopped speaking, I think I stopped breathing too…the words stuck in my throat when I tried…no one has ever rendered me speechless...I felt slightly faint.

He never left that night or the next day or the next week, for months he never left my side.
He stayed with me, cried with me, loved with me.

I was living in my own fairytale.

Then one day, unexpectedly he disappeared. Like a dream, I can never wake up from.

Wherever you are, you gave me a gift, I was afraid to open. You made me realize that something other than myself is real. For this gift I am Thankful.

I eventually wrote my story, which off course was now a love story. A Fish out of Water turned into My Jamaican Guy. It took two heart wrenching years, and a move to London and Los Angeles, but in the end it was all worth it. It is my dream that one day, My Jamaican Guy will be shown on the big screen in a cinema and I will walk the red carpet, take my bow, and smile when I hear the words..."and the winner for best picture is"

I hope you enjoyed this tale.

BLESSINGS, ONE LOVE & WALK GOOD

WELCOME TO JAMROCK

Greetings!

If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you. The Gospel of Thomas.

Christmas is a coming and the geese are getting fat, please put a penny in MY hat.

Talking about fat. On one such escape to Ocho Rios for again another spontaneous New Years Eve party, I had the pleasure of meeting a FAT CAT. This cat was so fat, and so rich that he had his own secret service men who flew to Jamaica prior to his arrival to ensure his safety.

The men arrived on foot to the private home of the friends that he was staying with, to set up hidden surveillance cameras, huge amounts of equipment and went in search of a landing pad for the helicopter. This was probably one of the most secluded locations on the Island, not even God could find it. Google GPS was not yet invented and these men managed to find this house. Amazing!

It turns out that the fat cat was on Bin Laden's hit list of America's most wanted fat cats; he was one of the richest men in the World.

So, we had the daunting task of entertaining the fat cat, which was not easy. It was work.

Every location had to be prepped, just like pre-production on a Hollywood feature film, all arrangements had to made beforehand for his arrival at any location, even if it was a rum bar on the side of the road. He defiantly was hanging with the right crew, as most of us work in Film and new exactly what to do. So every day we had to give his team of bodyguards a list of all the places we were going to take him. The morning before a party that was to take place on top of a remote mountain, in the an even more secluded location, my best girlfriend (BFF) and I had to rise at 5am that morning to take the soldiers off to war. They proceeded to survey the residence of a famous Jamaican Artist, with a small cottage attached to a LARGER old house, where my BFF planned to serve up her tea and cucumber sandwiches to the fat cat, his entoruage and our friends who had all arrived for the spontanious New Years Eve party the night before. A chopper pad was located, the ambulance was stationed in the event that the cucumbers and tea were laced with arsenic. The surveillance cameras were discreetly place where everyone with eyes could see them as the cottage was about the size of your bedroom.

The Carnival arrived, meandering through cavernous potholes, mud and fallen trees. It had been a rainy day in paradise and the roads were like a trek through an amazon jungle.

Nevertheless, they all arrived to savour the tea and sandwiches, the music and stunning landscape of white fog drifting over blue mountains. Spectacular views are best in these remote hideaways, far off the beaten track , the crowded white sand beaches and tourist traps below.

Lights, camera, action. The party was hopping. Revellers were treated to an eclectic selection of the best music Jamaica has to offer, from my boy lollipop to fu manchu, trenchtown rock and simmer down to the disco era's boogie oogie oogie, night fever and cocomotion. DJ Brian ruled the night.

Rain scene. The rain began to....well... RAIN. Buckets of water fell from the sky. The torrential downpour threatened to maroon us forever on this mountain top. The secret service men were spinning. The weather had completely derailed all the planning of a quick escape for fat cat, the helicopter pad was far away on top of a nearby (relatively) patch of level grass, and they had forgotten to bring one small peice of surveillance equipment...an umbrella.

So the fat cat was stuck on this mountain in Jamaica surrounded by wild crazy people and he could not move. Eventually we were able to calm them all down and reassured them Bin Laden would never try to come to Jamaica because WE would terrorize HIM.

The party continued to rock in the rain as the sound of the Skatalites, Desmond Dekker, Toots and the Maytals rocked on. Fat cat never had such a good time in his life as it was ladies night on the dance floor in the 10x10 cottage, and they were ALL suffering from NIGHT FEVER. A beautiful Italian countess grabed his FAT ass and did not let go.

For more information on our music check out my favorites: Reggae Explosion: The story of Jamaican Music/ Amazon.com or Barnes and Noble. or go to facebook/Dub-Reggae-Rocksteady and Ska downloads. You can also go directly to Rock Steady/Facebook for this link.

Keep on rockin!

BLESSINGS, ONE LOVE & WALK GOOD

ON THE ROAD TO PARADISE

Black River, Jamaica

Greetings!

I awoke this morning with devout Thanksgiving for all my friends. Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have really been blessed with some amazing friends, the people I have met and the places I have seen. It never seizes to amaze me, that all I have to do is leave my bedroom, with all it's creature comforts and go outside the door.

One such departure from my AC, TV and other creature comforts, was an experience so beautiful that it resulted in gaining an unexpected friend. It was Christmas 19_ _, and the posse were gathering for our usual non stop party's our childhood mates and an assortment of characters whoever was visiting from abroad, usually film or music people. This was a ritual that was practised for many years and it became a tradition to journey across the country and the globe to meet up just in time for the never planned, always spontaneous (yeah right) New Years Eve celebrations or maybe for me it was just an excuse to get away from more family gatherings, and endless FOOD. Not to mention the nauseating Christmas carols that was the background soundtrack at all these family parties. I despise Jingle Bells and all the silent nights. Christmas has just become a pagan ritual, full of gluttony and expensive gifts bestowed on already overindulged children.

Nevertheless we celebrate for their sakes and keep the tradition and fables in tack for the sake of my dear mother and her adorable grandchildren. Santa Clause is coming to our house, entering through the key hole, his sledge and reindeer's park outside and he brings a sack of gifts and places them neatly under the Christmas tree, which we paid a huge amount of money to decorate. The trees are imported from Canada or some country with the cool climate to grow them, and sold in stores for a fortune. This is the preferred tree, in all the nice uptown homes, as the Jamaican grown tress have few branches to hang your assortment of jingle bells.

Ooo humbug!!

So I escape each year, once the gifts are opened, and the eggnog served, I jump into my car, and drive across the Island into the arms of awaiting friends, usually perched on a beach or a veranda like birds. Ocho Rios is a tourist town, about 60 miles from Kingston, over a traitorous hill called Mount Diablo, the devils mountain. It is located on the North Eastern Coast of Jamaica, where we have many friends who often join us to bring in the New Year. This has also become a tradition, but one that I truly enjoy. The background soundtrack is often ska, rock steady, or reggae music, sponsored by the music connoisseurs, DJ Brian or Native Wayne.

This escape was particularly memorable. There was a larger than usual group of friends most from big cities, New York, London and L.A. Many of them, have been coming to Jamaica for years, they bring their friends, we bring ours and the group expands like a beautiful balloon at a kids birthday party. This group was now a CARNIVAL. Each day was like a production on the set of a major blockbuster movie, with buses, drivers, cars arriving every morning just to go to the beach. We caused traffic jams in parking lots as our carnival hit the road for dinner each night. The characters of a big production were all there, the director, the producers, the assistants, location managers, wardrobe, hair and makeup and of course the actors. The roles changed daily depending on how much rum ( and other unmentionables) were consumed the night before. The first person to wake up was the producer who made the call sheet, the second became the locations manager and the last person to surface was usually the director. A motley crew.

The crew was so large, it took days to meet everyone. I noticed a girl many days later, who was obviously a friend of a friend of a friend. She was silent, hardly spoke, never tried to be funny or intelligent, she just laid in the sun all day...tanning. The men in the parade were extra frisky, donning their best T shirts and shorts and rushing to the pool to casually sit beside her. The women pretended not to notice. She completely ignored them which made her even more interesting. Did I mention she was stunningly gorgeous! A Blond haired, blue eyed beauty from London. She looked like a young Ursula Andress on the set of Dr No. We will call her The Bond Girl (TBG)

It turns out she was in Jamaica to find her ROOTS. Her great grandfather once lived here and she was in search of her heritage. She was NOT a friend of a friend of a friend, she just stumbled upon us and joined the circus. To cut a long story short, she told us she was renting a car and driving to Black River after the new year... alone. Well as I told you I have the best friends, and we would not allow a woman to drive by herself, in a car on a Jamaican road. The roads are not as friendly as we are. One could easily end their vacation tragically on our "highways". I was elected care taker of the beauty since I was the only person who frequented Black River and was familiar with the deep country roads.

We embarked on a Thelma and Louise style road trip around the island, hunting for clues to TBG's deceased Jamaican family. Graveyards, churches, old houses were searched for clues that led us from one amazing place to another. Along the way we met the sweetest people who were happy to lead us to the next clue. This was like a real life treasure hunt. We ended up in a place called Treasure Beach. Treasure Beach is an off the beaten track haven, I call heaven. One of the best cottages are a cluster of gems called JAKES.

The treasure hunt finally ended in pleasure, as TBG found love in a sweet chubby country boy, with shaggy hair and a shy smile, who swept her off her cute little manicured toes. Off she ran into the moonlight one night and I had to drag her out by her long blond hair back to London or I swear she would still be here today.

TBG eventually got married, not to the country boy, thank GOD, and now lives with her husband and beautiful children in America. She is today still one of my dearest friends and I will treasure our friendship forever. Thelma if your out their holla!

LOVE

Louise

BLESSINGS, ONE LOVE & WALK GOOD

ROCKING AWAY IN JAMROCK

The Harder They Come, a film by the legendary director and Jamaican Icon Perry Henzell.

Greetings!

Today I had an epiphany..I am a bonafide, unapologetic entrepreneur.

I spent the day compiling pictures of my life as a fashion designer and realized I still had it in me... that passion for fashion is lurking, ready to rear it's glamorous head. I thought I had killed it, stomped it out with beautiful locations, a life on the road with my great film crews going from one magnificent spot to another. In Jamaica even the ghettos are beautiful, most directors love the visuals of distressed shacks, graffiti painted walls, mangy dogs and loud colourful people. It is a directors dream to shoot in these garrisons (Political strongholds) and many nights we are on some side street in downtown Kingston, like Mathews lane, drinking white rum with the Dons (Area leaders). A Don called Zeeks who is now in prison was a friend to film as he guaranteed our safety for a price...oops.. Location fee.

This is very interesting stuff..so read on.

Once we had a German director come to shoot a movie and when he saw the ghettos in Kingston he flipped out and said these were the most beautiful locations he had ever seen. Well, if you have ever been to some parts of Germany, with drab, grey, square buildings with NO colour, then I you can understand his delight. He was taken by our location scouts to an area called Craig Town, one of the most dangerous areas in the city. That day it was full of mountains of garbage and dead animals..absolutely gross. He loved it. Perfect he said.

On the day of filming at that location the people in the area were so happy that we were coming that they cleaned up ALL the garbage and dead dogs. The poor director was distraught when he saw the place all cleaned up for him, the people got all dressed up in their finest Sunday best outfits, hats and all. Well art department went to work....we had to order truckloads of garbage and find dead animals to scatter on the streets and wardrobe had the task of telling the stylish mob to go back home and put on their yard clothes. This was greeted by the biggest chupsies (kissing of teeth) you have ever heard.They were VEX to say the least. Eventually the angry mob conceded and returned in their grungy T shirts, rollers in their hair, slippers and head ties. They were still vex, but the screw face (scowls) actually added to the look. We had a great day and the director was a happy man.

So, I am excited about dusting off my black outfits and reemerging from the ashes.

I created a line of T Shirts called Rock Steady in honour of old school Jamaican musicians and our amazing vintage music, rock steady, ska, and dub. Reggae came much later, this was the original Jamaican music and I will soon turn you onto my favorites.

Meanwhile,

Check out my T Shirt line and designs on Facebook. Become a fan of The Rock Steady T Shirt Collection or go to Rocksteady/Facebook for the coolest T shirt designs and view myPortfolio.

See pictures of the many different film projects I have worked on, and our great Jamaican style.

Veiw my profile @ Rocksteady/Facebook.

And how was your day?

BLESS UP, ONE LOVE & WALK GOOD